


stop and stare (come a little closer)

by carissima



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 20:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16436264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: “You really think I won’t be able to pick you out of crowd?” Freddie asks. He sounds curious, like he’s certain Auston’s wrong about this and there’s nothing that makes Auston more competitive than someone doubting him.“Let’s make a bet,” he says impulsively and holds out his hand. Freddie takes it, Auston’s hand dwarfed in Freddie’s larger one. “My costume’s gonna be so good, you won’t be able to tell it’s me.”





	stop and stare (come a little closer)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fiddleyoumust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/gifts).



> thank you to my beautiful beta and everyone who read this along the way, you're the best. also, this fic requires you to seriously suspend your disbelief for like, the whole premise etc. 
> 
> hi fiddleyoumust, i know you asked for mistaken identity and costumes which i know this isn't QUITE that but i'm hoping it's close enough?

“What lame-ass costume are you going for this year, Matts?” Mitch slings his arm around Auston’s shoulders and leans right into his space. It wasn’t so long ago when it had felt weird having someone so aggressively and insistently pushing his boundaries, but he’d never met someone like Mitch before. Now though, he leans right back into Mitch and rolls his eyes.

“Lame-ass?” He crinkles his nose and feels pretty fucking offended. “My costumes are awesome.”

There’s a vague rumble of laughter around the locker room at that, and Auston narrows his eyes and glares at every single person smirking back at him. “Oh fuck you, sorry you guys can’t appreciate my phenomenal Halloween costumes.”

“Dude, two years ago you put on Brownie’s dad’s sweater and a false moustache and called it a costume,” Mo says, shaking his head. “Looks like you’re trying to recreate that look now.” He gestures to Auston’s upper lip and okay, now Auston’s really offended.

He can feel Mitch laughing where he’s pressed up against Auston and he gives Mitch a little shove, watching as he stumbles into Freddie, who catches him easily. Mitch simply winds his arm around Freddie’s waist and gives him a little squeeze of thanks.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing about, Mitchy, that cop costume was dumb,” Auston mutters.

“Uh, I looked amazing thank you very much,” Mitch counters. “Right, Fred?”

Freddie pats his arm reassuringly. “Sure did, buddy.”

Mitch grins at Auston like he’s won something, and Auston’s not having this. Halloween is his bitch. He’s awesome at costumes, and he clearly needs to find some new teammates who can get on his level.

He hasn’t actually planned his costume yet, but now he’s fucking motivated. He’s gonna show them all that they’re wrong and they’re all gonna apologize to his face and bow down to his Halloween awesomeness.

*

Auston’s hanging out at Freddie’s place, because Freddie has a sweet setup for watching games and he actually has a fully stocked fridge like he’s a functioning adult. Auston can cook, his mom would beat his ass if he couldn’t, but Auston hasn’t reached that stage of adulthood yet where he actually enjoys the whole process of cooking. Or washing up afterwards. But Freddie is totally an adult who gets his food delivered to his door and plans his meals in advance. Auston respects that. He respects it so much that he comes round for dinner at least twice a week if they’re in Toronto and mooches off Freddie’s awesome cooking skills.

There’s a knock at the door and Auston looks over his shoulder from where he’s lazing around on Freddie’s huge sofa at Freddie, who’s standing in the kitchen, frying something in a wok and wearing an apron. An honest to God apron. It makes his shoulders look twice as broad. But Auston wants to eat whatever Freddie’s cooking because it smells so good, so he’s very manfully resisting the urge to chirp him.

“Want me to get it?” Auston offers when Freddie picks up some kind of bottle and pours a healthy amount into his wok, making a very satisfying sizzling sound.

“Yeah, thanks,” Freddie says, distracted as he skillfully tosses chicken and something green that he’s thrown in with it.

Auston pads across the room, checks his appearance in the conveniently placed mirror beside the door, runs a hand through his hair and opens the door.

It’s a delivery guy with two packages and a bored expression that quickly shifts to interested when he registers Auston’s face and his eyes dart back down to the label. “Uh, F. Andersen,” he says breathlessly. He’s looking behind Auston, clearly just realizing whose house he’s delivering to, but Freddie is out of sight and Auston plants himself firmly in the opening and takes the offered packages.

“I can sign,” he says, and ends up signing for the delivery and an autograph for the guy just to make him go away because Freddie’s yelling that dinner is ready and Auston is starving.

He shuts the door and drops the packages in front of Freddie, more interested in food than whatever Freddie’s been buying.

It takes him less than ten minutes to clear his plate, patting his belly and sitting back in his chair, shooting Freddie an appreciative glance. “That was so good,” he says, perhaps unnecessarily, but his mom raised him with manners.

Freddie nods, placid as ever. He pushes his own plate away. “You’re washing up.”

Auston makes a show of rolling his eyes but this is all part of their routine. Freddie cooks, Auston washes up and they spend the rest of the evening watching whatever game’s on.

He’s rinsing the plates when Freddie picks up one of the packages and opens it. He can see a hat and what looks like a whip and Auston’s eyebrows go straight up.

“Uh, you wanna open that shit in private, bro?” Auston gestures towards what is definitely a whip, leaning a little closer to get a better look.

Freddie gives him an unimpressed look. “It’s my Halloween costume,” he says flatly.

“Oh yeah?” Auston makes a grab for it, moving faster than Freddie to sneak it away. He flicks his wrist, cracking the whip loudly against the kitchen floor. “This is so cool. What’s your costume? Some kinky male dominatrix?”

“You wish,” Freddie shoots back and grabs the whip from Auston, placing it carefully back next to the hat. “Indiana Jones.”

“No way,” Auston’s eyes widen. “Dude, I can totally see it.”

“Thanks,” Freddie says dryly. “I appreciate your seal of approval.”

Auston grins at him, easy.

“What about you?” Freddie asks, steering Auston back towards the sofa and away from his super cool costume. “Have you decided on a lame costume yet?”

Auston flops down on the sofa and kicks out at Freddie, catching his thigh. He lets his foot rest there and shoves a cushion under his head while Freddie flicks on the television and settles on the Yotes-Preds game. Auston’s mood worsens when he sees the score; it’s halfway through the first and the Coyotes are already down by two. “Fucking Preds,” he mutters half under his breath but Freddie hears him anyway and drops his hand to Auston’s ankle to give it a squeeze. He lets his hand rest there and Auston waits until the score’s even in the second before he nudges Freddie’s thigh again.

“My costumes aren’t lame,” he says, picking up the conversation like they haven’t been sitting mostly in silence for the past half hour. “They’re funny and cool and different.”

“Sure,” Freddie says easily.

“They are,” Auston insists and leans up onto his elbows. He puts thought into his costumes. He’s original.

“So, what funny and cool and different costume is it gonna be?” Freddie asks. “Pressure’s on, Matty.”

“Fuck you,” Auston says reflexively. But he flops back down and stares up at the ceiling and considers it. He knows his costumes are fucking transcendent or whatever, but obviously his lame-ass teammates aren’t on his level, so maybe he needs to bring it down a notch. Maybe he needs something more mainstream to shut the idiots up. “It’s gonna be epic.” He knows that much, at least. “So epic you won’t even know it’s me.”

Freddie’s mouth curves into a smirk but he’s still watching the game and not paying him any attention. “Yeah? You gonna put a paper bag over your head or something?”

Auston takes the cushion from behind his head and throws it at Freddie, who catches it easily and throws it back. “I wouldn’t deprive the world of my face,” he says straight-faced, before he giggles at the look Freddie throws him. “Seriously though. Epic.”

“Yeah?” Freddie still looks amused and fuck, Auston is gonna make him eat his words.

“Yeah,” he says firmly. “I bet you don’t even recognize me at the party. It’s gonna be that good.”

“Matts, of course I’m gonna recognize you,” Freddie says patiently. “You’re big. You stand out in a crowd. Everyone in Toronto, anyone who’s ever watched a game knows who you are and what you look like. You think a costume is gonna cover that face of yours?”

Auston’s not sure if that’s meant to be a compliment or not. Freddie’s expression isn’t giving it away either, and Auston kind of likes that, if he’s being honest. He appeals to the polarity in Auston. Freddie can be a challenge, and Auston’s into that, big time.

“I know, it’s a crime to cover something this pretty,” Auston says, because he knows Freddie will grin and roll his eyes.

“You really think I won’t be able to pick you out of crowd?” Freddie asks. He sounds curious, like he’s certain Auston’s wrong about this and there’s nothing that makes Auston more competitive than someone doubting him.

“Let’s make a bet,” he says impulsively and holds out his hand. Freddie takes it, Auston’s hand dwarfed in Freddie’s larger one. “My costume’s gonna be so good, you won’t be able to tell it’s me.”

“So what do I get when I find you?” Freddie asks.

Auston smirks. “You think it’s gonna be so easy, huh? Alright. If you find me within, say, half an hour of us both being at the party, I’ll do anything you want. That’s how confident I am that I’m gonna win.”

Freddie’s expression doesn’t waver. “Alright.”

“And when I win, you’ll do whatever I want,” Auston says, just so it’s clear.

“Alright,” Freddie repeats and they shake on it like gentlemen.

Auston settles back against his cushion, and his gaze wanders back to the screen. Arizona are up by one now, and Auston grins, throwing an arm behind his head as he gets comfortable. He’s gonna win this bet for sure. Freddie’s gonna feel dumb when he can’t spot Auston and then Auston’s gonna have all the power over him.

It’s gonna be so fucking good.

*

Auston’s fucked. He’s got two weeks until Halloween and he’s got nothing.

And like, it’s fucking annoying because he’s so good at Halloween, always has been. He kills it every year without even trying. But now, there’s like pressure or whatever because he’s so desperate to prove Freddie and everyone else wrong, and he’s crumbling.

He never crumbles. He thrives under pressure. And he’s being slowly strangled by a dumb Halloween costume.

“Alex,” he says when his sister picks up. There must be something in his voice because she immediately picks up on it, the way sisters do. The way his sisters do, anyway.

“What’s up?” she asks, and whatever had been playing in the background disappears. “Aus? Everything okay?”

“I need your help,” he says.

“Okay,” Alex says immediately. “What are we talking about here? Hiding a body?”

Auston laughs, tension easing out of him. He drops onto his sofa and takes a deep breath. “You’d hide a body for me?”

“Well, duh,” she says, like it’s the stupidest question she’s ever heard. And he doesn’t think too hard about how much he misses home during the season, but fuck. He misses home. “Seriously, what’s up? You’re being all dramatic.”

“I need a Halloween costume,” he says. “Like, the best one ever. It’s got to be epic, Alex. Like, beyond epic.”

“A Halloween costume,” Alex says flatly.

“Not just any costume,” Auston points out, because that’s the entire crux of his problem.

“An epic costume,” Alex says dryly, and he can hear her rolling her eyes at him. Big sisters are the worst. “You’re such a fucking drama queen.”

“Whatever.” Auston’s heard it before. He doesn’t give a shit. “Just help me? Please?”

He hears her sigh and then a door open and close. “Alright. I’m not even gonna ask why it’s so important because it’s gonna be some dumb boys thing that I don’t care about.”

Auston grins and settles in to get comfortable.

They argue over Batman:

“Too boring.”

“But you can mask your nose. Your nose is gonna give you away immediately. You can’t hide that thing.”

“Fuck you, Alex.”

And Harry Potter:

“Too generic.”

“You don’t have to go as actual Harry Potter, Aus. You could go as Hagrid. Get some crazy wig and go nuts.”

“No.”

“Alright. But Voldemort would really hide your nose.”

“Oh my god, Alex, stop focusing on my nose!”

And halfway through dinner, because they’ve been debating this for long enough that Auston got hungry and put some pasta and chicken on, Alex makes a noise that makes Auston sit up a bit straighter.

“What?”

“The Avengers,” Alex says. “You can be an Avenger.”

Auston thinks about dressing up like Iron Man and honestly, he’s over it. “Meh,” he says and shovels another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

“Okay, not an Avenger, but like, what about Thanos?”

Auston pauses mid-chew. Thanos is probably gonna be totally overdone this year. He’d put a week’s salary on more than one person going to the party as Thanos, easy. But maybe that would work in his favor.

Auston hates the idea of being one of many. He loves to stand out. He wants to be an original.

Freddie would never suspect him.

“Alex,” Auston says, grinning and he knows she can hear it in his voice because she hisses out an excited “yes!” and probably does something lame like fist pump. “You’re a genius.”

“Naturally,” Alex scoffs. “Plus, it’ll really hide your forehead and nose.”

Auston opens his mouth, a scathing retort on his lips. She’s not wrong though. And Alex has spent the last two hours indulging his drama. “Fine,” he says. “Thanks, Alex.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, a little softer than she usually is with him. “Hey, Aus?”

Auston pushes his plate away and runs his hand through his hair, rests his chin on his other hand. “Yeah?”

“Miss you,” she says. Then after a pause, she adds: “Brat.”

Auston grins. “Don’t miss you,” he says, and his grin widens when she laughs loudly down the phone at him.

*

It takes him less than half an hour to find a makeup artist in the GTA who can sort him out for the party, and another hour to track down everything he needs for the rest of the costume. His glove is gonna look badass, and he’s kind of excited about it now that he’s set on an idea.

They’re not scheduled to play on Halloween, so he can take his time getting ready. He clears his whole day and spends the whole week before ignoring Mitch, who alternates between trying to chirp him about his costume or trying - and failing - to find out what Auston’s going as. He already knows Mitch is dressing up as Mario because he’s convinced JT to go as Luigi, and obviously he knows Freddie’s costume. Freddie isn’t telling the rest of the boys what he’s going as though, so every time someone (Mitch) tries to guess, Auston finds a way to sidle up to Freddie after and makes a quiet little whipping noise. It always makes Freddie laugh and it drives Mitch insane, so Auston does it as often as he can, obviously.

He doesn’t really bring up the bet, and neither does Freddie. Not until they’re getting dressed after morning skate at least, when everyone’s talking about the party that night and Auston looks up, catching Freddie’s steady gaze already pinned on him.

Auston mimes a whip crack, but this time Freddie doesn’t break into a smile.

“Half an hour to recognize me, buddy,” Auston says.

“Fortune and glory, kid,” Freddie says, standing up and grabbing his bag. He pauses by Auston, drops his hand onto his shoulder. “Fortune and glory.”

Auston stares as Freddie leaves, baffled. “What the fuck, man?”

Goalies are fucking weird.

*

Auston spends most of his day sitting in a chair, letting a woman paint his body and contour shit on his face, or that’s what she calls it anyway. By the time she’s finished, he knows way too much about her three kids, knows the most intimate place she’s ever painted someone and is apparently now the most famous person she’s ever worked on. He’s also signed six autographs for her kids, her husband and her two sisters.

When he looks in the mirror after she’s done, though, it’s totally worth it. He turns his face left and right, and watches Thanos’ face start to grin back at him.

“Contouring is magic,” he tells her in all seriousness, which earns him a laugh and a shake of her head.

As soon as she’s packed up and left, he grabs his phone and snaps a picture, sending it to Alex with three fire emojis.

His phone rings almost immediately.

“Is that you?” she asks, sounding incredulous.

Auston’s feeling pretty damn smug. “Yeah,” he says. “Couldn’t you tell?”

“Holy shit,” she breathes. “I hope you paid the artist double.”

“Paid her in autographs,” he says.

“Asshole,” she laughs. “Well, you wanted to look unrecognizable. I think you’re as good as you’re gonna be.”

“I hope so,” Auston says. “I need to win a bet.”

“Whatever,” Alex says dismissively. “I don’t want to know about any freaky sex bets you have going on.”

Auston blinks in surprise. He stares down at his phone, where Alex is still on speaker. “It’s not,” he denies. “What the fuck?”

“Uh huh.” Alex clearly doesn’t believe him and Auston makes a face at his phone. “Still don’t want to know, Aus.”

Auston almost tells her anyway, just so she knows it’s just a bet between teammates. That’s it’s just Freddie, who she’s met a few times already so she knows there’s no sex happening between the two of them. Freddie’s like, super quiet about who he sees, who he dates, who he fucks. Auston likes his privacy too, but the guys have met some of the girls he’s been seeing. He’s not quite there yet about bringing a guy to meet them, but he’s pretty sure the guys would mostly be chill about it.

Anyway, he definitely doesn’t have a sex bet going with Freddie. Just a normal, regular bet, which Auston is going to win and then he’ll think of something fucking majestic as his prize.

He says goodbye to Alex and carefully assembles the rest of his costume. Then he snaps a few pictures to save for later and pulls out his phone to book his ride.

It’s actually pretty fucking sweet to pull up outside the bar and not be recognized. He totally loves the attention most days but sometimes, he likes to be incognito and not have to smile for photos or politely say no and hope that no one tweets about him being an asshole or whatever. Tonight though, he steps through the VIP line, flashes his ID and aims a bland smile at the guy squinting at him like he’s trying to figure out if he’s faking or not. Not a single girl or guy turns his way, except for one guy who’s pointing at his glove. It’s a pretty fucking sweet glove, so Auston gives the guy a little wave, the fake stones flashing brightly as they catch the light, and then he’s being ushered inside.

He spots Freddie immediately. He’s standing by one of the windows, a beer in one hand and his other resting on his whip where it’s tucked into his belt. Auston feels his heart starting to race and he figures the countdown is on. Adrenaline sets his senses alight and he deliberately turns away to the bar and orders a light beer for a change, just to throw Freddie off.

There’s a whole mix of people at the party and it’s pretty crowded already so he’s not too worried about being discovered, but it’s actually a bit lonely standing at the bar and smiling politely at teammates as they wander past, no recognition in their expressions whatsoever.

It doesn’t matter though. He’s got 24 minutes left and then Freddie’s ass is his. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

So he nurses his drink, idly checking off each teammate as he spots them. Mitch and JT are impossible to miss, and Mitch is laughing so hard all the time that Auston kind of wants to go over and share the joke. He stays where he is though, watching Freddie as he stops to talk to Gards, who is dressed like a lion and Lucy as a lion tamer, which is kind of awesome, Auston thinks. Freddie and Lucy compare whip sizes, with Freddie’s just coming out on top. Gards thinks the whole thing is hilarious and keeps moving, blocking Auston’s view. Frustrated, Auston downs his beer and orders another, shifting along the bar a little so he has a better view of Freddie. Now he’s talking to Zach and Alannah, who have come as the Flintstones, and Auston has 21 minutes left to win their bet.

Naz and Ash join them, dressed as Slytherins, obviously, and Auston freezes, his bottle halfway to his lips when Freddie looks over in his direction. His gaze sweeps past Auston without stopping and Auston does a little mental high five with himself because he’s killing this. Freddie’s going to fucking weep when Auston reveals himself and Auston wonders if he should hit up Mitch beforehand to catch the whole thing on video. For posterity or whatever.

He checks the time on his phone again and he’s got 17 minutes. Easy.

“Hey.”

Auston looks up and blinks, because Freddie is standing in front of him, his shirt unbuttoned way more than Auston thought it was and Auston scrambles to straighten himself up from his slouch because he doesn’t need to be eye-level with that much pale, Danish, smooth skin.

Auston blinks at him, unsure if Freddie’s clocked him or not yet.

“Cool costume,” Freddie says and leans an elbow on the bar in front of Auston so they’re facing each other. Then he leans in a little, enough that Auston can feel Freddie’s breath on his cheek. “What’s your name?”

Oh. Ohhhh. Auston feels his cheeks heat up. “Thanos,” he says, lowering his voice a little and aiming for a Canadian twang to cover up his accent.

That gets him a laugh and Freddie’s thumb brushes over Auston’s glove, completely unaware of who Auston is. “Yeah? Are you gonna destroy the party?”

“Only half of it,” Auston manages to say. He feels, fuck, he doesn’t know how he feels right now but Freddie is totally flirting with him. Thanos. Whoever the fuck Freddie thinks has come to this party as Thanos. A guy. Freddie is flirting with a guy.

Freddie laughs, low and intimate, like he’s drawing Auston into him and fuck, Auston finds himself leaning a little closer. When he realizes what he’s doing though, it’s too late to pull back. He doesn’t want Freddie figuring out who he is now, not when he only has 14 minutes left. He really, really wants to win. And he’s fucked either way, now that he kind of sorta knows one of Freddie’s closely guarded secrets.

Then Freddie very deliberately checks him out, with absolutely no subtlety at all and Auston decides to just go along with it. If Freddie’s stupid enough to come onto a complete stranger at a Maple Leafs party, he can’t blame Auston here.

“Would I survive?” Freddie asks, his attention firmly on Auston. He’s not really doing much, but Auston is starting to suspect that Freddie doesn’t need to do much at all to get what he wants.

“You?” Auston looks him up and down, keeping his gaze steady as he takes in Freddie’s broad shoulders and the way his shirt hangs off them. His lean waist, accentuated by the way he’s tucked the shirt in. The whip, sitting comfortably on his hip. His long, rangy legs. “Maybe,” he teases.

“Just a maybe, eh?” Freddie grins, tipping his hat back a little so Auston can see his face more clearly. He looks like he’s enjoying himself and Auston feels a bit shit about it, because Freddie probably thinks he’s going to get laid tonight and instead, he’s going to think Auston’s a fucking asshole.

“Definitely maybe,” Auston decides, because he wants Freddie to keep smiling at him for as long as possible before this all blows up in Auston’s face. And it’s going to. Big fucking time.

“What do I have to do to work up to a yes?” Freddie murmurs. He’s closer now, his hand finding Auston’s waist and gripping him loosely. It’s still not too overt, Auston thinks, and he’s starting to figure out how exactly Freddie manages to do all this without getting caught. And when he looks up, he realizes that Freddie’s manoeuvred himself to stand between Auston and most of the rest of the party, like they’re trapped in their own little bubble for a few moments. They’re by the fucking bar, for fucks sake. How is it possible that none of their teammates, none of the staff have seen them and maybe made a move to break it up before it becomes headline news that the Leafs goalie likes to proposition men?

Twelve minutes.

“I don’t know,” Auston says, tilting his head like he’s deep in thought. Mostly he’s trying to look behind Freddie to see if anyone’s noticed that their starting goalie is hardcore flirting with a definitely male Marvel villain, but no one seems to be looking their way. “What would you do to convince me to keep you?”

Freddie leans in again and this time, he whispers right into Auston’s ear. “I can crack a whip.”

Auston shivers, losing his balance for a moment and he reaches out to grab onto something to steady himself and his hand closes around Freddie’s whip. It feels cool to the touch, the smooth leather soft in his palm. He shuts his eyes and imagines the sharp sting of leather slapping against his skin and he trembles, just a little.

“You like that, huh?” Freddie says, and Auston opens his eyes to find Freddie staring at him, too close, intruding into his personal space like he feels entitled to be there.

“You should show me sometime,” Auston says, the words falling from his mouth before he can stop them. Shit.

Freddie carefully crowds him back against the bar, moving slowly, like he’s waiting for Auston to push him away and tell him to back off, but Auston goes easily. His hand slides off Freddie’s whip and settles flat against his belly, caught between them where they’re pressed together. One of Freddie’s thick, muscular thighs is caught between Auston’s and Auston’s lips part just a little, his breath coming in tiny little pants.

“I want to,” Freddie says, and he must be pretty confident about his moves because he’s not even looking over his shoulder to make sure they’re not being seen.

“Yeah?” Auston pushes, because he can’t help himself. His gaze drops to Freddie’s mouth and he watches intently as Freddie licks his bottom lip in a blatant come on. It’s working, Auston thinks dazedly. Holy fuck is it working. “Am I your type then?”

“You’re big,” Freddie says, like he approves. Auston preens just a little. “I like a guy with stamina.”

And okay, Auston’s mind is fucking blown.

“Big hands,” Freddie continues, his fingers tracing the palm of Auston’s glove. “I like big hands.”

Auston’s breathing is embarrassingly shaky right now. “Yeah?” he manages. “I’m also charming, funny as shit and you can’t tell but under all this makeup, I’m fucking dreamy.”

And he leans in. He’s millimetres from Freddie’s mouth when Freddie’s head snaps back, leaving Auston just hanging there for a humiliating second before he pulls back too. “Uh,” Auston blinks.

“It’s my teammate,” Freddie says apologetically. He steps back casually, like he hadn’t just had Auston pressed up against the bar, like they weren’t about to kiss, and oh shit. Mo is behind them, looking between them. There’s nothing suspicious in his face, just polite interest, but Freddie moves to stand between them. “I’ll be back in a minute, yeah? Wait here?”

Auston’s too frozen to move but Freddie nods anyway and he walks away with Mo, leaving Auston staring after him.

It takes him a few long seconds to make his limbs move, turning around to flag down a bartender to order another beer. He downs it quickly, trying to steady himself because he’s not going to lie to himself, he was totally into that. He was into Freddie. He was about to kiss Freddie, what the hell?

The bartender hands him another beer with a knowing smile and Auston thanks her, leaning against the bar as he turns around. He looks for Freddie, finding him easily. Mo’s still with him and there are a few girls with them. Auston’s not worried and he takes a sip of beer. Mo’s laughing, obviously trying to flirt with the petite blonde and Auston can’t fault his taste. She’s stunning. He glances at his phone. Four minutes. What the fuck is he going to do in four minutes when this is all over?

He looks up and sees Freddie laughing at something. Auston stares, his palms sweating a little until he sees Freddie duck down so one of the other cute blondes standing with him can talk to him, her small hand landing on his bicep.

Auston hisses through his clenched teeth and he seriously considers going over there and ripping her hand away. Except what, it’s not like he and Freddie are dating or anything, hell, Freddie doesn’t even realize who he’s been flirting with for the past twenty minutes. Auston has no claim on Freddie so what the fuck is he thinking?

He’s about to turn back to the bar and get a fucking grip when Freddie lifts his gaze and looks straight at Auston, his expression annoyingly blank.

Then he winks. He fucking winks, and Auston is about to lose his fucking shit right here.

Freddie says something to the group and then he moves away, not looking back at Auston at all but Auston’s time is up and he stalks through the crowded party, following Freddie until he’s pushing through the door to the bathroom to see Freddie stepping into a stall at the far end. He moves quickly, his hand pushing back against the door to stop Freddie from shutting it but he doesn’t meet any resistance so he steps inside and slams the door behind him.

It’s a tight fucking fit obviously but Auston doesn’t care. “What the fuck was that?” he doesn’t bother to mask his voice anymore, it’s well past the 30 minutes they agreed on and he’s too worked up to care anyway. “It’s me, you asshole.”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting, maybe fireworks or a punch to the face that Auston probably deserves, but he doesn’t get any of that.

“I know,” Freddie says instead. Totally chill, like an asshole.

“What?” Auston pokes him in the chest, his finger meeting bare skin because Freddie’s decided to flaunt his body today, of all days. Auston’s annoyed. “No you didn’t.”

“Of course I knew,” Freddie says patiently.

“You’re lying,” Auston hisses through clenched teeth, lowering his voice because the bathroom was empty when they came in but he hasn’t exactly been paying attention. “You were flirting with me!”

Freddie tips his hat back and Auston hates that it looks totally cool. Then Freddie leans in, pushing Auston back against the door and Auston hopes it’s sturdy because it’s suddenly got the weight of two professional hockey players against it. “Auston,” Freddie says, his palms flat against the door so Auston’s caged against him. “I knew,” he says slowly. “The whole time.”

Auston’s heart starts racing. “So what was all the flirting for,” he demands.

Freddie ignores him. “How good was your makeup guy?”

“Woman,” Auston corrects him without thinking. “She was great. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Freddie murmurs and lifts one hand off the door to place it on Auston’s cheek. He rubs his thumb over Auston’s skin, humming a little.

“Wondering what?” Auston asks breathlessly.

“If it would come off if I did this,” Freddie says and then he kisses Auston.

It’s not gentle and it’s not soft, not that Auston’s had any time to process why he thought it might be, in the twenty minutes he’s known for sure that he wants Freddie to kiss him. It’s hard and unrelenting, Freddie’s hands on Auston’s hips now, pinning him back against the door when all Auston wants to do is squirm closer. He settles for moaning instead, muffled by Freddie’s mouth on his, and pulling Freddie’s shirt loose so he can slip his hands underneath and dig his fingers into Freddie’s skin, holding on tight as Freddie kisses him.

He’s pretty sure his makeup is going to be at least a little smudged after this.

Freddie’s tongue is in his mouth though and Auston’s desperately grinding his hips, as much as Freddie will let him anyway, and Auston’s kind of into being held down, apparently. He’s never really been with anyone stronger than him before, but yeah, he’s definitely into it. Into Freddie.

“Jesus,” Auston says hoarsely, when Freddie finally pulls back far enough that Auston can breathe again. His heart is pounding like it does after a hard workout or a bag skate, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that Freddie’s mouth is faintly tinged with purple/blue and he starts to laugh, leaning his head onto Freddie’s shoulder, his hands gripping Freddie’s arms.

“Not really the reaction I’m going for, here,” Freddie says dryly.

Auston snorts and lifts his head. “You’re looking a bit blue,” he explains, reaching up to rub his thumb over Freddie’s slick, wet lips. He’s taken by surprise when Freddie nips at him before he sucks Auston’s thumb into his mouth. It looks filthy but Auston’s into it, slides his thumb free and replaces them with two fingers. He watches Freddie watching him, and if they’re not careful, they’re going to do something stupid here, something that could get them caught.

“We should go back to mine,” Auston says, his voice pitched low. Freddie’s tongue is sliding between his fingers and he’s so, so hard. “Or yours.”

“Mine,” Freddie mumbles, not letting Auston’s fingers fall free. His hands are still on Auston’s hips and they’re rutting against each other, not hard enough to make anything happen but it’s got Auston on edge anyway. If Freddie put his hand on Auston’s shoulder and pushed him down, Auston thinks he’d go to his knees happily and blow him right here. The thought makes him moan just a little and Freddie’s eyes darken.

“Yours,” Auston agrees and tugs his hand free, giving Freddie a little shove to get some space between them.

“We can’t go now,” Freddie tells him. And like, Auston knows he’s gotta go show his face at least, but he groans anyway and rests his head back against the door.

“You better not change your mind or talk yourself out of it then,” Auston grumbles. “Because I’m gonna suck your dick later and my blowjobs are life altering, okay?”

Freddie rubs a hand over his mouth but it still looks kind of blue. Auston kind of likes it. He likes the threat of getting caught out. He likes that he can look at Freddie and see where his mouth has been. “I don’t know,” he muses thoughtfully. “I’ve had some pretty good blowjobs before.”

Auston knows he’s teasing. He knows it and still, there’s a flare of something in his chest, jealousy probably or possessiveness. It’s dumb so Auston’s going to ignore it. Instead, he wraps his hand around the back of Freddie’s neck and yanks him in for another kiss. They’re off-balance though so they stumble back against the door, Freddie’s hand slamming against the wood so they don’t fall over or break the damn thing. “Mind-blowing,” Auston says into Freddie’s mouth and then he bites Freddie’s bottom lip for good measure. “You’re gonna come so hard you’re going to forget your own name.”

“Promises,” Freddie says and this time, he shoves Auston away. “Go. You’ve got two hours.”

“You’re seriously giving me a curfew?” Auston snipes brattily but he straightens his costume and pats his hair to make sure it’s still mostly in place.

“I’m giving you a countdown,” Freddie says. He grabs Auston’s chin and kisses him hard and fast. “Two hours.”

Auston swallows his retort and settles for rolling his eyes instead. Then there’s a whole covert operation where he pokes his head out of the stall, makes sure the coast is clear and then he strolls out of the bathroom and heads straight for Mitch.

“Sorry bro, but you’re not gonna make it,” Auston says, lifting his gloved hand in front of Mitch’s face.

Mitch looks at him blankly for a moment before he peers a little closer. “Matts?” he says before his entire faces brights and he makes a whooping sound. “Oh my god, Matty!”

Auston grins and allows Mitch to stroke his face. “This makeup is amazing,” Mitch says in awe. He looks utterly ridiculous as Mario with his fake moustache and bushy eyebrows, but Auston decides he’s in too good a mood to chirp him for it.

“Epic,” Auston agrees, and slings his arm over Mitch’s shoulders. “I’ll accept a public apology for slandering my Halloween costumes in the locker room tomorrow in front of everyone.”

Mitch gives him a shove. “No chance,” he says. “You can’t make an effort for just one year, Matts.”

Auston doesn’t rise to the bait. He’s proved his point and he’s going to get his dick sucked by Freddie in two hours. He casually looks around the room and sees Freddie to his left, talking to Sparks. Auston is gonna climb all over that when they get back to Freddie’s.

Freddie catches him staring and slowly grins.

All. Over. That.

*

Sneaking around the party in full view of their teammates is pretty hot, Auston realizes when it’s nearing midnight and he’s already snuck off for two extremely hot, extremely frustrating make out sessions.

“I could just suck your dick here,” Auston gasps when Freddie pushes him back for the fourth time that night. “I’m talking about on my knees, your dick in my mouth, over in two minutes.”

Freddie looks like he might actually be considering it, but ultimately he keeps the palm of his hand flat on Auston’s chest to stop him advancing on Freddie’s dick like he really, really wants to.

Then the asshole just walks out of the bathroom and leaves Auston to like, will his dick to chill the fuck out before he can leave too.

*

Eventually, Auston takes matters into his own hands. He’s been at the party for hours. He’s had a few drinks, he’s talked to every single teammate and their significant other. He’s played it cool for exactly three hours and now, he deserves to be taken to Freddie’s house and have his dick sucked many, many times.

So he walks up to Freddie, who’s talking to Mo and Brownie, and casually puts his hand on Freddie’s back. “Hey guys, what’s up? Mind if I steal Fred for a second?”

“Sure,” Mo says, giving Auston a weird look but Auston doesn’t care. He’s got needs that only Freddie can help him with. So he drags Freddie away, towards the door, and lets his hand very casually brush over Freddie’s ass before he shoves it in his pocket and looks as innocent as he’s capable of being.

“We’re leaving,” Auston says, planting his feet to brace for whatever argument Freddie’s going to hit him with. “Right now.”

“Okay, Thanos,” Freddie says, taking Auston completely by surprise. He lets Freddie half-shove, half-coax him out of the party and then they’re in a car and Auston is literally counting down the miles to Freddie’s place.

The door closes behind Freddie and Auston’s already on his knees, pawing at Freddie’s stupid tan pants, trying to fumble down the zipper. Freddie helps him, thank god, and finally, finally Auston wraps his lips around Freddie’s cock and sucks him straight down. His hand covers what his mouth can’t, and his other hand covers everything else. He makes it wet and sloppy, moans when Freddie’s hands slide into his hair and tug just hard enough.

When Freddie starts swearing and his legs tremble just a little, Auston closes his eyes and pulls off, jerks Freddie until he’s coming on Auston’s face, his come dripping over Auston’s lips, his cheeks, a little on his neck where he’s arching into it.

“Fuck,” Freddie mutters, and finally he sounds affected. Auston grins and lets Freddie drag him to his feet, lets Freddie kiss him, guiding them towards the kitchen where he gently scrubs at Auston’s face until he’s clean and he can open his eyes again. “Alright?”

Auston laughs and drops his head to Freddie’s shoulder. “I need to get this makeup shit off me,” Auston says. “I feel disgusting.”

“You look disgusting,” Freddie tells him, herding him into the bathroom and turning on the shower. “Get in there.”

Auston strips himself down, ignoring Freddie’s huff of laughter when he’s naked and stands under the spray. It takes a full half hour to get himself back to his normal skin color, by which time Freddie’s joined him and has him against the wall tiles, one hand on his dick, the other cupping the back of his head as he slowly jerks Auston off with more patience than Auston’s ever had in his entire life. When he finally comes, it’s more intense than any other orgasm he’s ever experienced.

Freddie manhandles him into his huge bed and curls around him, one huge hand splayed over Auston’s chest. “Go to sleep,” he yawns.

Auston hums, his eyes already closed. “You won the bet,” he mumbles, half-asleep already. “I’ll pay up tomorrow.”

Freddie just grunts and throws his leg over Auston’s. It’s comfortable enough that Auston drifts off easily.

*

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” Auston says, staring down at himself in disgust. “I thought you’d wanna do sexy stuff.”

Freddie cocks an eyebrow at him. It’s stupidly attractive. Auston scowls back at him.

“You’re already easy for sex,” Freddie says, and Auston wants to disagree but honestly, it’s true. It’s been a few weeks since Halloween and Auston’s spent every night so far in Freddie’s bed, even on the road. They’ve been inventive when it comes to sex, and Auston is so pissed off right now and yet he still can’t wait to get home and see if he can convince Freddie to fuck him standing up. They haven’t got a game for two whole days and he wants to take it so, so bad.

Auston sighs, because before they can do fun sex things, they’ve got to beat the Sharks. He looks down at the stupid burgundy sweater and runs his hand down his front, smoothing the material out. “I look dumb.”

“I won the bet,” Freddie reminds him, like Auston could forget when he brings it up all the damn time. “This is what I want.”

“You want me to go to the game looking like an old man,” Auston grumbles. “Why does Brownie’s dad even still have this sweater?”

“It’s a good sweater,” Freddie says, completely straight-faced. “The media will love it.”

“Fuck the media,” Auston shoots back. “And fuck you.”

“Maybe later,” Freddie says in his most bland tone, the one that gets Auston so fucking hot.

“I hate you,” Auston complains, even as he reaches out to grab Freddie’s tie and pull him in for a kiss, making it as wet and noisy and ridiculous as he can make it. Even then, he can feel Freddie shifting against him, the way he does when he’s getting hard. Auston huffs a laugh against Freddie’s lips, turnabout is fair play and whatever, and grinds against him, eliciting a low moan from Freddie.

“Maybe next week I’ll put the old Thanos costume on again,” Auston says between bruising kisses. “If that’s a thing for you.”

“Fuck off,” Freddie mumbles, meaning no such thing judging by the way his hands are all over Auston’s ass.

They’ve seriously got to get a move on otherwise they’re going to be late. Auston really, really hates this sweater though, so he turns around, unbuckles his pants and lets them pool to the floor, bending over and rubbing his own dick through his boxers. “If we’re quick,” he gasps, even as Freddie’s wrapping himself around Auston, one hand knocking Auston’s hand off his dick to replace it with his own, his other hand gripping Auston’s hips as he slowly slides his hard dick between Auston’s cheeks. They both groan at the same time and Auston rocks back eagerly, his hands flat against the wall because he doesn’t want to brain himself just before a game.

“You’re such a brat,” Freddie breathes into his ear and yeah, that totally does it for Auston. His laugh turns into a groan as Freddie nips at his throat and then they’re both riding this as quickly as possible, because they’ve got some hockey to play.


End file.
